


how the cracks begin to show

by miniconsuffrage



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Chess the Musical, M/M, chess au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:55:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29457849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miniconsuffrage/pseuds/miniconsuffrage
Summary: Talking to Optimus feels a lot like playing chess.
Relationships: Dinobot/Optimus Primal
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10
Collections: Doop Week 2021





	how the cracks begin to show

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant for doop week day 6 but is a day late and i am so sorry for both that and for missing the rest of the days, but i HAD to get this one right. i had to.
> 
> chess au. chess. au.
> 
> if you've never heard of chess the musical, you shouldn't need it to understand this fic but also you should listen to the concept album right now immediately because it's a banger and the music was written by the guys from ABBA so you KNOW it's good. i've been fixated on it for more than a month and this is a combination of like 4 different versions of this particular scene, the mountain duet, along with some of my own fun additives. chess is the perfect scenario for doop and i'm obsessed with applying the cold war to beast wars. you may notice some other characters switched around in a way that may seem unusual. don't worry about it. (tarantulas fits the part of molokov perfectly okay.)
> 
> shoutout to chess anon for help with the casting, you are smarter than me and i hope you enjoy this!!!

It's funny how quickly things can go wrong. 

Two opponents seated across from each other, a chess board between them. There are cameras everywhere, capturing every minute detail of each player and broadcasting it for two entirely different sides of the planet. This is different than war, better—a model of decorum and tranquility, no injuries, no barbarism, no loss of life or property. Just two chess players, the best each side has to offer, playing a game.

Optimus understands his place in the world, even though it chafes. 

Megatron has defied the odds to be here, defending his title as reigning champion. He doesn't play for his government. They're just lucky to have him.

One moment, one realization, one split second—and the board is in the air, flung to the side as pieces are scattered all over the stage. The crowd watching erupts as Megatron walks away. Every eye on the planet is on him.

Afterward, Dinobot is left to pick up the pieces.

* * *

"This was a mistake."

Dinobot glares at Megatron over the rim of his drink. They've already had this argument. The fact that he's still harping on it is enough to make Dinobot contemplate walking out here and now, championship be damned.

They haven't even been here that long, and Megatron has been complaining the entire time. Like it's some kind of hardship, being up here—the beautiful terraced restaurant at the top of this skyscraper, the tallest building in the entire neutral city of Tetrahex. It puts them in full unobstructed view of the stars, and the crystal gardens on the terrace gently filter the lights coming up from below to make the whole place glow. It's the sort of luxury Megatron usually relishes. One would think he'd find a way to enjoy it now.

"He isn't even here. I'm shocked you let those Maximals talk you into this meeting in the first place. They're the ones who are in the wrong," Megatron continues, completely oblivious to Dinobot's disgust. Or maybe he just doesn't care. "You're supposed to be on my side. If you aren't, perhaps I shouldn't be letting you handle my affairs any longer. _Yes_ , I'm sure I can find someone far more suitable to the task."

Dinobot sets his glass down a little more forcefully than strictly necessary. "He'll be here," he says firmly. "And I didn't see _you_ sticking around to negotiate with the arbiter. If you'd simply played the game in front of you, neither of us would have to be here."

Megatron grins—unable to hide his pride in the stunt he'd pulled. And why would he be ashamed? The whole planet is waiting on his next move. It's exactly the sort of attention Megatron loves to bask in. Wresting the championship from the Maximals once isn't enough—now he has to up the stakes.

"I'm not waiting here all night to talk to a Maximal. I'm going to take a look at the lower levels," Megatron says, standing abruptly. "I _might_ be back."

"Megatron," Dinobot protests, sitting up straighter in his seat, but Megatron is already halfway across the dining area before Dinobot can even think to try and stop him. There's really no point anyway. Dinobot wishes he were surprised. He wishes Megatron would take this seriously. He wishes, sometimes, he'd never accepted the invitation to become Megatron's second in the first place.

He'll have to come back. If the two players aren't able to come to terms, Megatron is going to lose his title by default, and he's far too vane for that. Dinobot will just... have to hold down the fort until he comes back.

That is, if Optimus shows up in the first place. Megatron was right about one thing—Optimus was already supposed to be here by now, and the fact that he isn't is not a good sign. Tarantulas had promised to deliver one would-be champion to the restaurant, but what is a promise from Tarantulas worth, really?

Dinobot nurses his drink and watches the room. They'd decided on this place because it was expensive enough to be the most neutral place available. There was no chance of paparazzi being let in, no chance of either side staging anything obviously shady under the watchful eye of the unaffiliated elite. These were the ones who came out on the good side of the Great War, who barely notice the tensions rising again. Here, the presence of the two greatest chess players on the planet is only a passing curiosity.

He sees Rattrap before he ever sees Optimus, and his lip curls involuntarily in contempt. Of course the news mogul would be here, rubbing elbows with anyone he can find that has money. He watches Rattrap skirt the edges of the room before finally bumping into Optimus at the door. He watches their quick exchange of words. He watches Rattrap pass something small and hidden to Optimus, who quickly stows it away.

Then Rattrap leaves, and Optimus is scanning the room.

The game has begun.

* * *

This is a mistake.

Optimus can't help the thought when it surfaces. The farther up he gets in this skyscraper, the truer it feels. Whatever he's doing here, any of the multitudes of reasons—he's one misstep away from treading on a landmine.

But the only way forward is through, and the only way to keep the championship going seems to be going to this meeting. Tarantulas hasn't given him much choice in the matter, anyway. He doesn't particularly want to go sit at a table where it will be two against one, but Tarantulas hadn't seemed to think he'd have much to worry about. So there are other games he's playing that Optimus knows nothing about. That's par for the course.

In the end, here he is. And across the room, there's Dinobot.

Alone.

"Hey, you made it," he hears along with a hand on his arm, and looks down to see Rattrap grinning at him.

That's just prime. "This wasn't supposed to be televised," he says tensely.

"It's not, it's not. Don't get your thrusters in a twist," Rattrap assures him. He holds out an innocent-looking scrap of paper, folded in over itself a couple of times. "Just wanted to give you this. Your interview details."

It's so light in his hand as to be almost nothing, and yet he holds the landmine itself.

"You'd better get going," Rattrap nudges. "I have a meeting to get to down below. Good luck, though."

"Thank you," Optimus says sincerely, and not for the well-wishes. He hadn't had to do this. And it's probably only for his own gain, but still.

Optimus quickly pockets the slip of paper and finds Dinobot's table again, in the crowd of tables. He makes his way over.

"Hello," he says, drawing Dinobot's attention away from his half-full drink. "Just you here? I thought..."

"He'll be back," Dinobot says, and quickly gestures to one of the two empty chairs. "Sit. Have a drink while we wait."

There's a waiter on upon them almost instantly, so Optimus orders, and he scans the crowd more closely as he waits for it to arrive. Megatron is nowhere to be seen, and Dinobot seems a little tense. Something has clearly happened here he isn't privy to.

Dinobot doesn't volunteer any information, so Optimus takes the opportunity to really study Dinobot, at rest for the first time since Optimus has known him. They've only exchanged words a few times in the past, at competitions gone by, but there's something about him that has always fascinated Optimus. He doesn't seem like the kind of person who should be working with Megatron, that's for sure.

Speaking of which.

"So, what's the play?" Optimus asks. "Are we being taped? Is this meeting going to be broadcast?" Optimus asks, folding his hands together around his drink.

"Of course not," Dinobot says. "Not from my end, anyway."

Optimus nods and scans the room again. He's inclined to believe him, which means the couple of people he'd flagged the first time... "I think she's one of ours," he says, nodding to someone sitting a couple tables away. Dinobot is savvy enough not to look.

"Recording?" he asks.

"I wouldn't know," Optimus says truthfully. "Not that it would make for a very good broadcast, without a major player."

"He's coming," Dinobot says with an air of finality. "He only stepped out a moment before you came. He was looking forward to clearing up this whole misunderstanding."

Optimus has to clamp down on a snort. It's a lie, and they both know it, but at least Optimus thinks it's well-intended. "I guess I should be used to his behavior by now," he says. Years worth of chess tournaments had led to this one, and Megatron hasn't changed a bit the entire time. 

And really, neither has Dinobot. He's always there on the sidelines. Always analyzing each game, always making cases for his champion to be allowed to continue playing no matter what new stunt he pulls. From the outside, it looks exhausting.

Megatron won't forfeit—it's antithetical to his entire existence. He's just going to find a way to inconvenience Optimus as much as possible before he works things out.

Optimus settles in for a long night.

* * *

The thing about chess is, you can memorize moves and strategies and entire games as much as you want, but every game is going to be different. The probability of two opponents ever playing the same game twice is so small it may as well be impossible. The unpredictable nature of it all is part of the thrill.

Sitting across from someone, forbidden from speaking, only able to communicate through expressions, eye movements, sliding pieces across a board. The preparation it takes, at this level—the study, the hours and hours pouring over previous games, trying to get into your opponent's head, trying to figure out how they tick so that maybe you'll find a flaw, maybe discover an advantage. The knowledge that the person across from you has done the same, and that you are two people trying so hard, above all, to understand each other. There's a poetry to it, an intimacy hard to explain to anyone who hasn't felt it.

Talking to Optimus feels a lot like that.

Dinobot has spent months pouring over his games. As Megatron's second, it's Dinobot's responsibility to make sure he's prepared. He knows so much about the Maximal—the openings he prefers, his endgame strategies, even his demeanor—and yet, sitting across from him now, he's a mystery. Now they can talk, but not about anything real. Each piece of conversation is a carefully constructed play.

"Are you enjoying Tetrahex?" Optimus asks.

"I haven't had the time to do any sightseeing."

Optimus smiles wryly and takes a sip of his drink. "I haven't either. Tarantulas doesn't often let me out of his sight," he sighs. He sees Dinobot's gaze shift to the room around them, looking for signs of the bastard. "He's a couple levels down, don't worry. He doesn't want an international incident any more than you do."

Dinobot doesn't doubt that's the case. It's a fine line they walk—the Maximals keep a close eye on their citizens. It used to be that chess was their domain, played on their turf, and was just one more way they could establish their superiority over everyone else. With Megatron taking the title, they were able to negotiate for the next championship to be played on neutral ground. This loses them some advantage, but they can't protest it outright.

The Maximals want the championship back, above all else. Which is why both sides have to be so incredibly careful, and why having Megatron as part of the equation is so obviously a bad idea. He doesn't do careful.

Still—the Maximals must have a lot of faith in their golden boy to have sent him here in the first place, but it has to be a lot of pressure. Dinobot doesn't pity him by any means, but he does feel a certain amount of empathy.

"Perhaps once the tournament is over," Dinobot suggests. Would they let him out if he lost? Or would he be locked away forever? "Is there anything specific you wanted to see?"

"The botanical gardens," Optimus says without hesitation. "I've seen pictures. They have plants from all across the universe. The time and expense it takes to recreate optimal environmental conditions for each plant is just... immense. There are things there like nothing I've ever seen before."

"I didn't expect you to be so invested in organic life," Dinobot comments.

"We all need hobbies," he shrugs. "You don't spend all your time on chess, do you?"

Dinobot chews on that for a moments. Lately? Since the lead-up to the previous championship? Yes, it has all been chess. Most of his waking moments are consumed with chess, or with Megatron, who is himself consumed by chess.

But once...

"There's a theater in Tetrahex I was hoping to visit," Dinobot admits. "One of the oldest on the planet. It survived bombings in the Great War. I've heard it's rather grand."

Optimus smiles at him, and it takes Dinobot off guard—it's a _real_ smile, not the guarded kind he displays while shaking his opponent's hand before games, not the polite one he plasters over his face when meeting people who have the power to change his life. "I hope you're able to get away long enough to see it," he says. 

Dinobot nods. "And you, with your... gardens."

"I doubt I'll be that lucky. But that's alright," Optimus says, and his expression has shifted to something more guarded now, but that glimpse of the genuine had been... "No matter what happens with this tournament, I think everything will be changing soon."

Dinobot isn't sure he likes the sound of that. "What do you mean?"

Optimus shrugs again. "Nothing in particular," he says. "Just a feeling."

* * *

The problem is that Optimus is actually enjoying this meeting.

He'd come here prepared. He'd been dreading it ever since Tarantulas informed him of what he and Dinobot had set up, but Optimus could make do. He could steel himself for what was likely to be an awful interpersonal interaction.

But now Megatron isn't here, and Optimus should still be on his guard, but...

Dinobot doesn't seem like the kind of person he should be worried about. He doesn't seem like any kind of agent. He doesn't seem like the type to be working with Tarantulas under the table—or with Rattrap, for that matter. Most tellingly, he doesn't seem thrilled with Megatron's late behavior, either. What does that leave him as? He's just... here, drinking Energon with Optimus at a very expensive restaurant, hoping to get an internationally significant chess match back on. Which is impossible when they're missing a major player.

It would be so easy to just continue this way, to sit back and enjoy himself. It's a foolish thought to have.

"Dinobot," he finally says. "I don't mean to be rude, but—what are we doing here?"

Dinobot blanches. Optimus wonders what's going through his head. "Megatron will be here any minute, and then we can talk about the championship."

Optimus shakes his head. "Listen. I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but if I'm being honest, I'd prefer he not come back."

"The game..." Dinobot trails off, brow furrowed.

"I'm perfectly willing to play. He's the one that stormed off. If he doesn't get his act together, I don't think that's my problem, and I got the feeling the arbiter agrees with me," Optimus says. "I know that doesn't help you, but—would you like to go to the terrace with me?"

Dinobot looks confused for a very brief moment at the sudden switch in direction, but Optimus waits patiently. He waits while Dinobot thinks it over, probably waging war in his head over the answer to what should be and absolutely isn't a simple question.

"Alright," he says finally, and Optimus feels a little thrill.

They refill their glasses on their way out, and then take up a spot by the railing. There's a clear demarcation between the dining area and the more leisurely terrace garden which juts out from the building on two sides. The lighting here is dimmer, and it's easier to see both the stars above and the city below. Tetrahex is a fascinating combination of modern and ancient, being remarkably untouched by the war. The tower they're on is the tallest in the citystate, but it and many of the other buildings around are old, which means they're _big_. Marvels from a time before the war.

Dinobot is taking in the view, and Optimus watches him and the soft light glinting off his helm. He wonders, not for the first time, what someone like him is doing in a place like this. Surely there's more than this. Surely there's more than Megatron.

It's as if Dinobot can read his mind, because the first thing he says is, "he never would have gotten this far without me, you know."

"I know," Optimus says, because it's so unquestionably the truth.

"I'd hoped things would be easier after he won the title the first time. How wrong I was," he says, and actually chuckles. Optimus doesn't know what to say, but he continues before any response is expected of him. "What of your second? Is Tarantulas as irritating in private as he is in public?"

Optimus laughs helplessly. "Yes," he says. "But he isn't really my second. He does play, but not at this level."

"I knew it!" Dinobot says, downright scathing. "I said at the beginning, didn't I, the size of your entourage—"

"It isn't my choice. If I had my way I'd be rid of all of them," Optimus says, his hands up defensively.

Dinobot huffs. "What is his part, then?" he asks.

Optimus shrugs. What to say, that isn't already obvious? How likely is it that someone is listening in? "I play chess. He plays other games," Optimus says. "I'd prefer not to think about him right now."

"I don't blame you," Dinobot grunts. Optimus thinks back to the moments after the chess board went flying, in a back room with Dinobot and Tarantulas and the arbiter between them. Tarantulas made his arguments, smooth as can be—as if he'd known all this would happen, and had been prepared—and Dinobot had planted his feet before him and given as good as he got, if a little less refined. Optimus watched from the sidelines, ostensibly to find out what was happening with his game, but really, he could have watched Dinobot argue with Tarantulas all day. Anyone who could stand up to him like that has Optimus's admiration. He, himself, doesn't have the luxury.

 _'Everyone has a weakness,'_ Tarantulas had said earlier, back at the hotel. He knows what Tarantulas wanted him to do. And now, entirely by accident, he finds himself playing into it.

Everyone has a weakness. Optimus is very rapidly finding his, too.

* * *

They wander over to one of the benches and sit, glasses forgotten, the view still visible through the glass railing, but neither of them are paying much attention to it now. It's almost bizarre, how easy conversation is, with the lights of faraway stars twinkling down on them and gentle music wafting over from the dining area. Dinobot keeps catching Optimus _looking_ at him, and every time he does, something in his gut flips.

This is very quickly entering dangerous territory.

Megatron is nowhere to be seen.

Well, if he wants to bring his career to its knees, that isn't Dinobot's fault. He's done everything anyone could possibly expect of him and more, and he's _sick of it._

"When you and Megatron are through working together, where do you see yourself?" Optimus asks.

"Awfully forward of you," Dinobot says.

Optimus grins. It's very quickly becoming one of Dinobot's favorite sights. Optimus knows, of course he knows. "I only wondered if you'd ever thought of competing yourself."

Ah. Well.

"I wanted to, once," Dinobot admits. He hasn't talked about this in a very long time, but why shouldn't he now? Optimus isn't _his_ opponent. "It isn't very easy to make a living that way. Not on our side, at least. And I never would have gotten the kind of sponsorships Megatron has."

Optimus nods sympathetically, even though he can't really understand. Not coming from a place where he would have been snatched up by the powers that be the moment he showed any aptitude at all. "It's impressive, what he's been able to do with the game," he says, a begrudging respect in his voice. And it _is_ , the fact that Megatron took a game that used to be as dull, a Maximal affair, and turned it into a planet-wide sensation, just based on his personality and showmanship. Getting the public to show interest in something as intellectual as chess was a major feat. Megatron had done it—and Dinobot had helped. That had been enough, once.

"Still, it's too bad. I would have liked to play with you," Optimus continues, and something catches in Dinobot's chess.

"Perhaps we still can," he says, before he even knows what he's saying. He wishes he had a chess board in front of him right then. That would make this whole thing so much easier. Then they'd know what to expect, at least. They'd be on surer ground.

Their eyes meet, and it's quiet for far too long. "I'd like that," Optimus finally says, and lays on of his hands on top of Dinobot's and doesn't break Dinobot's gaze, and he _smiles_ —Dinobot thinks he's going to be driven mad by that gentle smile if he has to look at it for a second longer, and yet, he can't look away.

Dinobot doesn't realize he's leaning closer until it's happening. It feels right. It feels like a million years pass before they can meet in the middle, but it's coming, and besides, the view isn't so bad from right where he is—

"Oh, I see how it is."

Dinobot jolts to his feet before he even registers where the voice came from. Megatron's voice—and the sneer held within it—is impossible to ignore. He stands across the terrace with his arms folded over his chest, and...

He doesn't look angry. He almost looks like he wants to laugh. That's the worst part, that's how Dinobot knows it's going to be bad.

"How very typical! There's work to be done, but you leave me to deal with the rat on my own while you run off with my opponent. _Yes_ , in a setting as romantic as this, who could blame you?" he scoffs.

Dinobot approaches cautiously. "Megatron," he tries.

"Perhaps you've forgotten what _his kind_ did to your family line," Megatron hisses, now that he's closer, and Dinobot is powerless to stop him. "A noble line of warriors, reduced to _what?_ A failed chess player cozying up to their murderers. I'm sure they'd be _very_ proud."

But Primus, in that moment Dinobot wants to hit him. To scream, to rip him apart, to make him eat his own chess pieces, to make it _very clear_ he doesn't know a _thing_ about Dinobot's family—

He walks away. It's all he can do.

He doesn't look at Optimus as he goes. It's better that way—Dinobot is on no side but his own.

* * *

Optimus watches Dinobot go and something dark and nasty calcifies in his gut. He wants so badly to reach out, to stop whatever it is he'd just witnessed, but.

"I've come to an agreement with Rattrap and the TV sponsorships," Megatron says primly once Dinobot is out of earshot, like none of this has affected him at all. Maybe it hasn't. "Which, in short, means more money. For you as well, unfortunately."

That's really what he's thinking about right now? Surely he'd cared more about the game than this, once. "So?"

"So this meeting is unnecessary," Megatron says with finality and a dangerous look in his eye. "I'll see you at the chess board tomorrow to pick up our game where we left off."

And then he just leaves, as abruptly as he'd appeared. Now relatively alone on the terrace, it almost feels like Optimus imagined the whole thing.

He sits back on the bench and stares up at the sky, steadying himself, running over the scene he'd just seen like it's a chess game, examining it from every possible angle, finding all the implications he can extrapolate from just a bit of conversation. None of it sits well with him.

His hand wanders to a pocket and pulls out the folded slip of paper Rattrap had given him. Real, physical paper—easy to dispose of and impossible to trace. On it there is scribbled a location, a date and a time. It's after the tournament is set to end, but of course it is. Rattrap isn't going to cut anything short and lose out on revenue. Optimus memorizes the information, then walks over to the ledge and tears the paper into pieces, letting each of them flutter down.

It's all going to be different soon, whether Optimus wins or loses.

He's going to win.

**Author's Note:**

> i want SO BADLY to write a full bw fic based on chess you guys. i want so badly to get to depth charge as svetlana. you don't even know. alas, i have other fic responsibilities to fulfill first.
> 
> anyway, THANK YOU everyone for [a great doop week](https://doopweek2021.tumblr.com/)!!!!!!! i genuinely can't believe how far this ship has come. it's still pretty tiny, but it's well-loved and that brings so much joy to my heart. go check out [@xxewn](https://xxewn.tumblr.com/)'s art and thank them for organizing it. we are all forever in their debt.
> 
> (you can [reblog](https://miniconsuffrage.tumblr.com/post/643165319124467712/how-the-cracks-begin-to-show-rating-g) or [retweet](https://twitter.com/miniconsuffrage/status/1361199961224978433?s=20) this fic!)


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